


Oktoberfest

by Kestrel_sama



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Food, M/M, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 18:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19301749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrel_sama/pseuds/Kestrel_sama
Summary: Oktoberfest in Germany is lovely, but the view Hanzo has is even lovelier. A gift-minific for Ashe Rhyder





	Oktoberfest

“Hanzo! Come try this currywurst!” 

The booming voice was unmistakable through the crowd, and Reinhardt’s towering figure couldn’t be confused with any other. Hanzo excused himself from the booth of knick-knacks he’d been perusing to follow the summons without a second thought.

Hanzo had spent so many years following other people’s orders, it was unusual for him to do so nowadays outside of the confines of a mission. With Reinhardt though…

With Reinhardt he felt like a child’s toy on a string, tugged to his side with merely a grin or the crook of two meaty fingers. In this particular case it was the invitation to try some new iteration of fried meat. 

Hanzo had rather figured that they’d _already_ tried every form of fried meat known to man (and boiled, and braised, and flame-roasted, and seared) but as Reinhardt had said many times this afternoon alone…

_”It is Oktoberfest! Anything a German could want is all right here!”_

He’d be silly to think that Reinhardt meant his company was included in that blanket statement, but his brain had come up with it anyways, feeding him addictive droplets of dopamine whenever the Crusader looked at him with one beaming blue eye. 

Foolishness, this attraction to a man nearly twice his age and definitely thrice as honorable.

The lederhosen that wrapped Reinhardt in straps of glossy, hand-tooled leather was making keeping that in mind difficult to say the least. As Hanzo accepted the plate offered to him, he tried to focus on the meat and not the way that Reinhardt’s bulging thigh muscles looked like they were about to split leather just by existing. 

His gaze drifted a bit upwards as he mindlessly lifted the sausage to his lips, licking off the curry-ketchup and then taking a bite that was probably too big, juices bursting in his mouth and trickling past the corner of his lips. It was greasy and flavorful, assailing his senses. He blinked as Reinhardt lifted a napkin to the corner of his mouth, tenderness at odds with his large size, and wiped away a trickle of grease. 

“Careful, my friend! We wouldn’t want to stain your handsome kimono, after all!” 

Hanzo’s cheeks burned, and not from the spice of the curried ketchup either. “Thank you,” he murmured, attempting to finish the rest of his currywurst a bit more neatly. Reinhardt’s ebullience carried them through most of the tents of food and drink, and by the time the sun was easing low onto the horizon, he felt giddy from not only the company, but the vast quantities of beer he’d managed to drink. 

It was in this drunken and contented state that he found himself slipping his arm through Reindhardt’s as they walked, fingers lacing neatly and palms meeting. Hanzo listened to what was probably the fifth or sixth iteration of a story he’s certain he’d heard before, but it still captured his attention and his fancy. Maybe it was the way Rein gestured with his free hand, or the animated expressions that flitted across his face. Maybe it was the fact that Hanzo had let himself get a little too close too quickly. 

The evening passed in a blur, and after some warm apfel-kuchen they retreated back to the hotel where they were to reconvene with the rest of the team. 

The next day, hungover and mortally embarrassed at his behaviour, Hanzo sent Rein a message on his private channel, simply stating _:: I apologize for the hand-holding at Oktoberfest. It was unseemly. I had a nice time. ::_

He rather thought that would be the end of it and the old Crusader would graciously let him forget that for a moment he wanted something he didn’t deserve. 

He was only allowed to think that for a moment however. 

His com beeped, and Hanzo’s heart leapt into his throat at the message waiting for him. 

_:: Do not apologize! It was very nice! We should go on another date soon.::_

This time, Hanzo couldn’t restrain the smile on his face as he tapped out an agreement. Perhaps he could allow himself this one indulgence, after all. 


End file.
